


Wash Away

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s02e13 Irresistible (X-Files)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 18:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: He brought her here and he almost lost her, but it wasn't the time for self-loathing.





	Wash Away

He took them back to the motel, glancing at her every now and then, while she kept staring out the window, rubbing her wrists, as if she tried to wipe the red marks left by bonds.   
He almost lost her, again. He brought her here and he almost lost her, but it wasn't the time for self-loathing. This was his fault, now he had to think of a way to make her whole. He stopped at a red light and the streetlamp illuminated her face, the red marks made by the gag and the scrape on her chin. His fists clenched on the wheel, he wanted to go back and kill the son of a bitch. He went easy on Duane Barry, now he let the cops handle Pfaster, and every time Scully suffered. Never again, next one who comes after her, will have to walk through him, his gun, fists, nails and teeth. He will not let her get hurt, ever.   
The red light changed to green, but his temper took four more blocks to simmer down enough to glanced at her again. She kept her forehead pressed to the glass, eyes closed, still worrying her wrists. Letting go of the wheel, he gently covered her hands, slipping fingers beneath hers. She looked up, meeting his gaze for a second, then relaxed her grip, covering his hand in return.   
"We're almost there," he said softly. "You want to eat something?"   
She shook her head, as expected. Never mind, he had a bar of chocolate in his bag just in case. 

Scully shrugged out of her coat leaving it on the peg by the door, while Mulder went for her bag, searching for the ever-present little, red medical kit she kept at hand. They moved around each other, their roles suddenly switched, her in an exhausted trance, him crossing the floor with purpose.   
She sat on the edge of the bed when he knelt down in front of her, avoiding his gaze, dark clouds still heavy around her.   
"Hey, look at me," he said, resting one hand on her knee, "I need you to walk me through this."   
She met his eyes and nodded, climbing back up from the dark corner of her thoughts. He rummaged through the kit, on purpose, keeping her attention on what he was doing. It's not like he needed the help, he saw it done a million times, had the same fist aid training she had, he took care of himself for years, tending to cuts, scrapes, colds and headaches. No, he needed her present in the moment, focused on him. The images that kept playing in the back of his mind were probably only a fraction of what she felt, and that made him try harder. He found iodine and some sterile gauze, while she shrugged out of her blazer and unbuttoned the cuffs on her blouse.   
"I can't believe you still use this," he said, taking her hands gently in his, turning them to the light, "it stings."   
"It means you're still alive," she said letting him examine her marks, then added. "It's too dark in here."   
"The only good light is in the bathroom," Mulder sighed and suddenly her hands were gone.  
"I won't stop bathing, because some guy was a psycho," she said, and walked around him, heading for the bathroom, determined, only to stop on the edge of light.   
He got up and followed, stopping beside her, gentle hand on the small of her back.   
"C'mon, let's look at you."   
She stepped forward, one step, then another, then the next, and as she walked past the shower, she turned it on, full force of hot water hitting the floor.   
"Close the door," she said quietly and he did, feeling the small space warm immediately.   
She went to sit on the closed toilet seat, but first pulled her blouse over her head.   
"Iodine stains," she explained with her back to him, modestly wrapping a towel around her middle before slipping out of her pants and pantyhose, with that remarkable grace that all girls acquire around the age of breasts.   
"You want me to leave?" He asked, suddenly realising that he probably got a little too deep.   
"No," she said and turned, sitting down and examining her ankles with a deep sigh. "Oh no, those bruises will take weeks to heal."   
Mulder knelt down and ran his fingers over the deep-red marks. "He didn't cut skin though," he said, looking up her legs as she pulled the towel-dress a little higher up. "This one looks nasty too," he said, when she stoped on one big bruise on her thigh. She hissed, prodding the skin lightly.   
"Yeah, this one is bad."   
They looked at her arms and hands, taking stock of the damage. There was one on the inside of her arm and one on her shoulder blade, with some scrapes on her back.  
"These aren't too deep," he said but still she flinched. "Sorry."   
"Don't be."   
"But I am," he said, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. "I brought you here."   
"It's my job Mulder," she breathed leaning back into his arms. "Our job."   
"I should have told you everything before we came here."   
"Yes, you should," she said, covering his hand with hers, "it probably wouldn't change anything, but yes."   
"I thought it would be like always, a dead end."   
"Mulder," she whined and turned. The sight of her face made him hate himself some more. "We work on the X-files, things will never go the way you expect."   
The laugh that came through his throat, had nothing to do with humour.   
"C'mon," she said, pulling at his tie to loosen the knot, "let's wash this day off."   
His eyes went wide and his heart jumped to his throat. "You mean?"   
"Yes," she said without a trace of seduction, "together. We got into this together and we will get through it the same way."   
As she spoke, Scully undid the three buttons on his shirt and untucked it along with his undershirt.   
"You trust me?" She asked, sensing his hesitation and meeting his gaze with her unflinching one.   
Mulder nodded, pulling the belt through the loops.   
"Whatever happens, whatever you see," he said quietly, pulling her to her feet, "it's all you, not the case."   
Scully looked up from under her lashes, because a foot shorter and a foot apart, it was the only way she could hide the first smile that night, then deliberately glanced down. His pants and briefs hit the tile floor. He wasn't hard, but he wasn't exactly limp either, he never was around her. Trying ignore the fact, Mulder pulled his socks off, just when she let the towel drop. Her underwear was white, simple, modest even, if it wasn't the same or a twin, to the one he saw her wearing that first night in Oregon, the first time she came to him. She had scars and bruises now, but they made her who she was. A survivor. She unhooked the bra and let it fall, pushing her panties down before she pushed him backwards. This time he laughed easier, the tension lost in distractions.   
Her hands were on his chest, pushing just enough to keep him moving, walking backwards, trusting her to guide him. The light changed and the floor became hot and wet and hot spray hit his back, and her arms went around his waist. Scully, naked in his arms, turned them around and let the hot water wash over them both.   
He held her tight, then washed her back, while she scrubbed herself clean of the case. The bathroom was bright and warm and echoed with rare laughs. She washed his hair, making him bend forward, scrubbing his shoulders and neck and letting him hold her.   
Many times Mulder thought about that moment, wondering how it would feel to hold her willing, naked body against his chest, feel her arms around him, breast and pubis and thighs and her face. He imagined the words, her moans, her taste, but he never thought, it would simply feel like being hers. 

That night, they slept entwined in her bed, where no nightmare dared to touch them.

**Author's Note:**

> totally unedited, which probably shows, but Daggoo dared me to write this and heck, who am I to turn down a challenge like that.


End file.
